


I didn't mean it

by WolfKomoki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Dean Blames Himself, Gen, Sam Leaves, Sick Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-22 06:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8276417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfKomoki/pseuds/WolfKomoki
Summary: “You wanna know what I think? I think it should be you up there, not her.”Dean's words hurt Sam in ways he could never say. He wished that he had died instead of Charlie? "Well, Dean Winchester, you are dead to me." Sam thought, packing his bags.Dean stared at the empty seat of the impala, booze in hand as he realized what he's done."Why did I say that? Sammy I didn't mean it".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Supernatural was written by Eric Kripke.  
> Was I the only one pissed at Dean when he took Charlie's death out on Sam?  
> I get that you were angry, but how can you possibly wish that Sam was dead?  
> What the hell Dean?

 

          _“You wanna know what I think? I think it should be you up there, not her._ ” Dean’s words hurt, Sam wasn’t going to pretend that they didn’t. He didn’t allow the hurt he felt to show on his face, no he wouldn’t give Dean the satisfaction of knowing that they had. Dean told him that he wanted him dead. Sam watched as the mark on his arm was removed, sighing with relief. As angry as he was at Dean, he was glad that he was okay. When the darkness was released, Dean pulled Sam into the car, hoping that it would keep him safe.

          “ _Hold on_!” Dean ordered, frantically pushing the gas pedal as he tried to get the car to move. Sam watched as Dean vanished from the car, calling his name before his head smacked against the window. Sam's world goes black after that.

          Sam woke up some time later to the sound of the horn blaring. Getting out of the car, he opened the engine and pulled the cord to the horn, shutting it off. Once the car was silent, he walked away from the Impala, grabbing his backpack as he grabbed every weapon that he could carry. He grabbed some emergency cash from the trunk as he put as much of it as he could carry in his backpack.

          Dean had wished him dead, and he didn’t want him to be able to find him. Providing this stuff for Sam was the least Dean could do, after all, he wanted Sam dead.

Sam was giving him that wish by leaving. Dean would never see him again.

          He walked away from the Impala for the last time as it disappeared from his view point, and that’s when he turned off the GPS tracking on his phone. He’d be _damned_ if he gave his brother any way to track him down after he basically told him that he wished him dead. Sam continued walking until he found a local convenience store.

          He walked inside as the bell rang against the door, letting the cashier know that he had walked inside.

          “Sir?” The man asked with concern, staring at the wound on Sam’s head.

          “Sir your head.” The man gasped with concern. Sam looked up at the camera to see the blood from where his head had smacked against the car. Sam grabbed a few moon pies and pre-made sandwiches as he paid for them with the cash he had stolen from Dean.

          “I’ll be fine, thank you.” Sam lied as he walked outside the store. He didn’t want to go to the hospital and have Dean come for him, not after what he said. Dean was dead to Sam after his words, so he was on his own. He zipped up the bag after he put in his food supply from the gas station, and he continued walking, praying that the guy wouldn’t call for an ambulance when he left the store.

          Sam continued walking as he watched the store disappear from his view point. He didn’t know where Dean had disappeared to, and quite frankly he couldn't care less. This was the last time that he would see his brother, and he meant it. When Dean wanted to apologize for wishing him dead, _that’s_ when he’d come back, but until then, Sam was gone.

Dean was the only person he had left, and he wanted him dead.

          Angry tears poured from Sam’s eyes as he approached the hospital. When he stopped to look at his surroundings, his heart stopped. Corpses, lots of them, their necks covered in black veins. Reaching into his bag, he covered his mouth with the surgical mask he had stashed in the Impala.

Not knowing what this was, he covered his hands with gloves, not knowing if touching anything would get him infected.

He continued to walk, grabbing his gun out of his bag as he slowly walked inside the building.

          “ _Freeze_!” A sharp voice ordered, gun aiming for his head.

          “Whoa lady!” Sam gasped, hands up in fear.

          “Your throat! _Show it to me_!” She barked.

          “Okay, okay, just _don’t shoot_!” Sam pleads, moving his collar, as he showed her his throat. She sighed with relief as she put her gun down.

          “Sorry about that I just needed to make sure you weren’t one of them.” She apologized.

          “One of _what_? What’s going on?” Sam asked with confusion.

          “Wait you don’t know about—alright look. There’s an infection in this town. It makes people turn into aggressive monsters.” The woman explained.

          “Hey, your head looks really bad. Look we need to take care of that before they attack you.” She told the newcomer. Sam agreed as she lead him to safety as she tended to the wound. Sam groaned in pain.

          “Shhh…Shhh... you’ve got to be quiet.” She told him as she tended to his head. Sam tried not to scream as she cleaned his head, trying to avoid being attacked or him getting infected. After thirty minutes, Sam’s wound was bandaged, and that’s when Sam slowly put his ear to the door, listening for signs of the infected.

          Sam could hear them pounding against the locked door, his heart pounding in his ears. He slowly backed away from the door, walking towards the back wall as he raised his gun.

          “What’s your name?” The woman asked, seeing the obvious panic on his face.

          “Sam, my name is Sam.” He answered.

          “My name’s Jenna.” She answered.

          “Alright Jenna, they’re going to break this door down any time now. Do you know how to kill them?” Sam asked.

          “A shot to the heart.” Jenna answered.

          “Alright, you ready?” Sam asked. She nodded as the infected finally broke down the door, and that’s when Sam and Jenna fired their guns at the creatures’ hearts, watching as the creatures fell to their death.

          “ _Go, Go_!” Sam called, running outside the room as they continued walking. Eventually they came across a man carrying a baby.

          “My God _he’s infected_!” Sam gasped.

          “Please, please save her. If there’s one thing I can do with my life, I can save _her_!” The man gasped, handing over the baby to Jenna. Sam stared at the man, hand clutching his gun as he thought of what to do.

The man was infected, but he still had some humanity left.

          “Please, I’ll go somewhere away from here. Don’t kill me _please_.” The man pleaded.

          “Okay, for the baby.” Sam told him, watching as he left the hospital.

Sam looked at his phone, debating on whether or not he wanted to call Dean.

He had left Dean when he disappeared from the car, and he still wondered if he did the right thing.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

          Dean slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying in a field. After slowly getting up, he realized that the Impala was nowhere to be found.

He grabbed his phone from the ground, and sighs. His phone screen was cracked. Swearing under his breath, he started walking, hoping to find the Impala so he could drive to a repair shop and get his phone fixed.

          He ends up walking about a mile before he found the Impala, empty. Dean started to panic. Where was Sam, and why wasn’t he here?

He grabbed his spare cellphone, frantically dialing Sam’s number and hopes that he pick ups the phone. He sighed when the phone went straight to voicemail. Frowning, he gets in his car and starts driving. He stops at a local gas station and grabs a picture of Sam, hoping that if he asked enough questions, someone would give him a lead.

          Dean walked into the gas station and walked up to the counter.

          “Excuse me, I’m looking for a missing person. Have you seen this man?” Dean asked, placing Sam’s picture on the counter.

          “What do I look like the FBI? Why don’t you buy something and then I might help you.” The cashier demands. Dean sighed as he walked to the back, grabbing some sandwiches and a drink as he walked back up to the counter.

          “ _Thank you_. Now I did see him. He came in here about an hour ago. That’s when I noticed the injury to his head. I tried calling for an ambulance, but, the guy was gone by the time they got here.” The man answered.

          “Did he give any indication as to where he was going?” Dean asked.

          “No, but I did notice him carrying a backpack. Truth be told, I think he’s on the run.” The man informs.

          “Alright, thank you for your time.” Dean told him as he got back in the car. He checked his phone, only to discover that Sam had turned off the GPS tracking on his phone.

          “Damn it!” He screams, punching the steering wheel in anger. He continued to drive until he noticed something very odd. Corpses with black veins around their throat. After parking the Impala, he checks the trunk to realize that some of his weapons were missing. _Where the hell is Sam? And why would he steal from me? He could’ve just asked for the cash and the weapons and I would have given it to him._

Dean wonders as he gets back in the Impala and continues driving.

Sam walks through the darkened hospital, flashlight in one hand, gun in the other.

          Jenna had taken the baby to a safe place, leaving Sam on his own. When the hospital had started getting too warm, Sam took off the mask and gloves hoping that by removing them, he could breathe a bit easier. Sam walks toward the upper floor, hoping to get to the chapel. He hasn’t seen any infected on the upper levels, but he still doesn't let his guard down as he enters the chapel.

          Sam didn’t have time to take in his surroundings before one of the infected pounces on him, knife in hand as it starts clawing at him.

          “No, no, _stop_! Please _stop_!” Sam pleads, attempting to shield himself from the creature. The creature ignored his pleas as it brought the knife to his neck, attempting to slice his throat. Sam grabs the knife's handle, turning it towards the creature’s throat as he sliced its neck, blood from the cut covering his clothes.

          When Sam cut the creature’s throat, the infected died, and that’s when more infected ran in, having busted the door down. Sam backed away with fear as the infected ran to him, grabbing his neck.

          “ _WAIT_!” He screams, waiting for them to attack. Instead of attacking, the infected start sniffing Sam. Sam stares at them in confusion wondering why they weren’t attacking him further. The infected let him go when they smelled the infection on him, walking outside the chapel. Sam slowly stood up as he left the room, grabbing his flashlight and gun as he started walking towards the stairs.

          _“O’ death, O’ death, O’ death,_

_Won’t you spear me over til another year,_

_But what is this that I can’t see,_

_With ice cold hands taking hold of me?_

_When God is gone, and the Devil takes hold,_

_Who will have mercy on your soul?”_

Sam jumped when the woman started singing, slowly walking down the stairs towards her voice, aiming his gun as he walked towards the figure standing over a body.

          “Hey Sam.” The woman greeted. Sam stared at the woman with confusion, having smelled no infection on her.

          “What’s the matter? Are you speechless at the sight of a beautiful woman?” She teases. Sam continued to stare at her in confused silence, black veins crawling up his neck as the infection started to settle in.

          “Well please, don’t speak on my behalf.” She chuckles.

          “Who… _who are you_?” Sam finally asks.

          “Don’t you mean _what_?” The woman chuckles.

          “Judging by the song you were just singing, I’m guessing you’re a reaper.” Sam answers.

          “You got that right kid. It’s over.” She chuckles.

          “What’s over?” Sam asks.

          “You Winchesters. See this universe has one rule: what’s dead should stay dead.” She answers.

          “Sorry about Death.” Sam apologizes.

          “Thank you. Well just because Death is gone doesn’t mean my work is done. I still got souls to collect. Oh but I’m here to warn you, when you and Dean die you’re not coming back. See the old Death thought it was funny: you and Dean coming back over and over. Well I don’t. When you die, I’m going to make damn good sure that you don’t come back.” She taunts.

          “And how are you going to make sure of that?” Sam scoffs.

          “Most souls that I reap they go to one of three places when they die, heaven, hell, or purgatory. See with you, I won’t toss you in any of those places. I’ll toss you into the empty, and nothing comes back from that.” She answers.

          “I know you’re dying Sam. I can feel it. You’re unclean in the biblical sense.” She chuckles.

          “Name’s Billie by the way.” She smiles, disappearing into the distance. Dean stared at the empty seat of the impala, booze in hand as he realized what he's done.  
_"Why did I say that? Sammy I didn't mean it"._

 

         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally in this chapter Dean was supposed to find Sam in the library where he sees the research on Sam's laptop and uses it to cure Sam.  
> I deleted this scene because quite frankly it was rushed.  
> I still want someone else to cure Sam, but I haven't decided who I want it to be.


	3. Chapter 3

 

                Sam watched the strange woman walk away, and that’s when he started walking. He could smell the other infected in the distance, listening to them pound and scratch at the walls. Sam ignored them when they turned around to look at him, continuing to walk through the hallway. Eventually he found the hospital’s library, and that’s when he slowly turned the knob, walking inside as he closed the door.

          His vision was staring to deteriorate, becoming blurry as he continued to walk towards the laptops. Sam began to feel lightheaded as he stumbled towards the laptop, fingers trembling as he typed in the words biblical purification. The trembling from his fingers made it difficult to navigate the webpage, his other hand gripping the table in a last ditch effort to keep him standing.

          Sam blinks through blurry vision, forcing himself to read the words on the screen. Eventually he finds a  sentence that stated that biblical purification could be done with holy oil, and that’s when he stepped away from the computer, stumbling towards the duffel bag on the floor.

          His fingers were trembling violently as he grips the zipper of the duffel bag, struggling to open it. Eventually the zipper tears, causing the items to fall on the floor. Inside the bag was a container of holy oil, some gauze, and some tongs. Too weak to move, Sam collapses onto the floor, black veins crawling up his neck as the infection sets in.

          Sam’s heart pounded rapidly in his ears, fingers trembling with each beat. He looks at the light coming through the stain glass windows, hands cupping the veins on his neck. He looked at his face in the round mirror as he sat in silence, too tired to move.

          Sam’s face had lost all color, no doubt a result of the infection. He grabbed his phone in a last ditch effort, fingers trembling as he turned the GPS tracking back on, hoping that _someone_ ; _anyone_ would find him.

Sam’s hand goes numb, which causes him to drop his phone.

          The library was filled with carpet, but when the phone hits the floor, it sounded like a loud thud to Sam. Sam slowly closes his eyes, too exhausted to keep them open any longer.

          Dean was driving in the Impala when he got an alert on his phone. Sam had turned his GPS tracking back on. With no time to lose, he drives towards the hospital, parking the car as he grabbed some weapons, quickly running inside as he followed the signal. He didn’t have time to take in his surroundings, as the only thing he was worried about was getting to Sam.

          When he heard that Sam was hurt, he dropped everything to find him. Now that he could actually find him, he ran. Dean made it to the library after several minutes, and that’s when he stopped to catch his breath, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he scanned the room for Sam.

          The first thing Dean noticed was how quiet the hospital was. Hospitals are normally filled with lots of noise, voices in the hallway, shoes clacking on the floor, doctors and nurses speaking in the hallway, machines beeping with signs of life, ambulances driving in, sirens blaring as patients are rushed in. The silence was unnerving, to say the least.

          Dean notices a figure in the darkness, lying against the table, lighting from the laptops reflecting in the room. Dean recognizes the figure immediately, and that’s when he runs over to Sam.

          “Sam? Sam I’m here, _I’m here_ little brother.” Dean calls, turning on his phone’s flashlight to look at Sam. Sam’s face had lost all color, which if that wasn’t worrying enough, his neck was covered with black veins.

Sam’s eyes were still closed, and he wasn't responding to outside stimuli.

          “Sam? Sam can you hear me?” Dean called, cupping his face with concern.

          _Sam opened his eyes to find himself in a cemetery. He started walking, hands gently touching the top of the headstones as he walked through the cemetery. Eventually he made it to John’s headstone, feeling each letter._

          When Sam didn’t respond, Dean grabbed Sam’s wrist, hoping to find a pulse. Dean sighed with relief when he found a pulse.

          “Sam? Sammy?” Dean called, frantically shaking him in attempt to get him to open his eyes.

_“Hello son.” John smiled, grabbing Sam’s hand._

_“Dad?” Sam asked with confusion._

_“Why are you here son? It’s not your time yet.” John demanded._

_“I’m dying dad.” Sam answers simply._

_“No son, you can’t!” John protested._

_“But I’m so tired.” Sam sighs.  
_

          “No, no, _Sammy come on_!” Dean was sobbing at this point. He quickly gets off the ground, rushing to a laptops for a cure. He continued to panic until he noticed a screen on one of the laptops.

He reads the screens until he finds the words holy oil, and that’s when he rushes over to Sammy, pouring the holy oil inside a bowl.

Next he grabs the tongs, gripping the gauze as he dips it into the oil.

Once it was covered, he grabs the lighter from his pocket, lighting the gauze as it catches on fire.

          After moving Sam’s hair out of the way, he presses the gauze to the veins in Sam’s neck, hoping to burn off the infection. When Sam felt the fire start to burn him, his eyes flashed open as he lashed out against the attacker.

          “Easy, Easy Sammy, I’m trying to help you!” Dean shrieks. Sam’s eyes were blank, showing no recognition as he continued to lash out at Dean.

          “Sam, _stop_!” Dean pleads, restraining Sam the best he could as he puts the fire to the veins on Sam’s neck. Dean watched in amazement as the veins disappeared from Sam’s neck as the holy oil burns them off.

When the infection left Sam’s body, he stops lashing out, and he slowly closed his eyes, laying back against Dean’s leg. Sam’s face was still too pale, which was worrying for Dean. He opens his bag as he grabs a sandwich, shaking Sam in an attempt to rouse him.

          “Sam, I know you’re tired but you’ve _gotta eat something_.” Dean pleads. Sam slowly opened his eyes to see Dean holding a sandwich.

          “Dean?” Sam asks with confusion, grabbing the sandwich as he started to eat. After eating the sandwich, color returned to his face, much to Dean’s relief.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dean finding Sam like that. Hopefully he's okay now.


	4. Chapter 4

 

          Sam eventually manages to eat the sandwich as Dean helps him up, gripping Sam’s arm as he makes sure he doesn't collapse as soon as he stands up.

          “Do you think you can walk?” Dean asks, hand on Sam’s shoulder as he helped steady him towards the door. Sam wants to be angry with Dean. He still remembers when he wished him dead after Charlie’s death, but Sam was too exhausted to stay angry.

          “Sam?” Dean asks, his concern growing when Sam didn’t answer him. When Sam took off, it had only been a day, and when he was infected, it had only been two days before Dean found him. To Sam though, he felt like it had been weeks from when he had been infected.

          “I think so.” Sam finally answers after several minutes of silence.

          “Then let’s get out of here.” Dean orders as Sam slowly stands up. Once he was standing, Sam slowly walked next to Dean as they walked toward the car. Once they were both in the Impala, Sam sits back against the seat, eyes slowly closing from exhaustion. Sighing, Dean slowly crawled over the seat, buckling Sam’s seat belt for him as he returned to the driver’s seat. Once he was in the driver’s seat he buckled himself in, and he turned the radio to a soft rock station. Lord knows the kid could use the rest, especially since Dean just cured him of an infection.

          _“Cover my eyes_

_Cover my ears_

_Tell me these words are a lie_

_It can’t be true_

_That I’m losing you_

_The sun cannot fall from the sky_

_Can you hear heaven cry_

_The tears of an angel_

_The tears of an angel_

_The tears of an angel_

_The tears of an angel” The voice in the radio sang._

[Tears of an angel by RyanDan](http://picosong.com/atqV/)

_“What are you listening to?” Sam yawns, slowly opening his eyes to see Gadreel behind the wheel._

_“Gadreel?” Sam asks with confusion._

_“Hello Sam.” Gadreel greeted._

_“I’m dreaming aren’t I?” Sam concludes._

_“Yes, I believe so.” Gadreel answers._

_“Well since you’re here I need to talk.” Sam tels him._

_“I’m listening.” Gadreel says.  
_

_“Okay so I’m kind of pissed at Dean right now.” Sam starts to explain.  
_

_“Why?” Gadreel asks._

_“So we had this friend named Charlie. Anyway, she died and Dean basically told me that he wished that it was me that died instead of her.” Sam explains._

_“Perhaps it would be beneficial to air your grievances with Dean?” Gadreel suggests._

_“Thanks for the suggestion, but I’m not talking to him until he apologizes.” Sam tells him.  
_

_“But if you refuse to be around him, how is he supposed to apologize?” Gadreel asks._

_“I’m just so angry.” Sam sighs._

_“Maybe you should take some time to cool off for a while if you’re so angry.” Gadreel suggests._

_“Hey Gadreel?” Sam asks._

_“Yes, what is it Sam?” Gadreel asks._

_“I miss you.” Sam sighs._

Dean continued to drive as Sam slept, occasionally glancing at Sam when he hit a red light. Soft rock played through the radio as Dean continued to drive.

          “I miss you.” Sam mutters in his sleep. Dean blinks when he says that. Dean was with Sam in the car, so who could he be missing?

Dean thought about it for a while before it dawns on him. _He probably misses Charlie._

Dean sighs. _Of course he misses Charlie, she was his friend too idiot. You know he probably ran off because of you Winchester?_ Dean scolds himself. He thinks of the last conversation that he and Sam had ever had.

          _“You know what I think? I think it should be you up there, not her._ ” He had said that day. Dean stares at his reflection in the mirror with disgust. He hates himself for saying that to Sam. He was just so angry, and instead of dealing with his feelings, he bottled them up and took them out on Sam, _again_. He had even wished _death_ on his brother.

_I hate myself so much for saying that to Sam._

_No Dean, it should be you up there, and not Sam. It would be the least you deserve._ He scolded himself. Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel they were going to stay at, unbuckling himself as he crawled over to Sam.

          “Sam, wake up.” Dean calls, being loud enough that he could hear him, but soft enough that he didn’t scare him.

          “Gad--“ Sam started to say. _No, Gadreel is dead, and he isn’t coming back._ Sam yawned as he unbuckles his seat belt, slowly getting out of the car.

          “You were talking in your sleep.” Dean informs. Sam looks at him in silent curiosity, still too angry to talk to him.

          “I know it’s no excuse, but I am sorry Sam.” He apologizes. Sam’s anger melted away when he apologized.

          “Charlie’s death wasn’t your fault, I see that now.” Dean realized. _No it wasn’t, and I didn’t deserve to be wished dead._ Sam thinks.

          “I didn’t mean it when I said that I wanted you dead. I would _never_ want you dead Sammy, you hear me?” Dean sobs. Sam was happy to hear Dean say this, but it was too early in the morning for talking.

          “Dean calling Sam. Come in Sam.” Dean teases, seeing the groggy look in Sam’s eyes.

          “No talking before breakfast.” Sam yawns. Dean chuckled as he helped Sam into the motel. Once they were inside, Dean checked them in, and they carried their luggage inside. Sam sits at the table, grabbing the cup as he walks over to the small kitchen, pouring the ingredients for the instant coffee maker into the cup.

          Once he had the ingredients, he walked over to the chair, sitting at the table where the instant coffee machine was. He put the cup on the machine, turning the wheel as he waited for it to heat the coffee. Soon the coffee was heated and Sam started to drink it.

          Sam thinks of his dream. He hadn’t thought of Gadreel since he was possessed by him. He remembered when Cass told him about his death. As angry as he was when Gadreel possessed him, he still wished that he wasn’t dead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally during the dream sequence I was going to have Sam talk to his mother, but I really don't know much about Mary's personality yet to be able to depict her accurately. So I decided to change it to Gadreel.  
> I don't know if Sam misses Gadreel on the show, but I do, so Sam does too.  
> The song that Gadreel was listening to is called Tears of an angel  
> by RyanDan.


	5. Chapter 5

 

          When Sam started to drink the coffee, the first thing he noticed was the bland taste in his tongue. He had added all the ingredients to the coffee, black with sugar, ice to cool it down, but something didn’t taste right. After slowly getting up from the table and walking to the sink, he slowly pours the coffee into the drain. Once he did that, he walked over to Dean as he started shivering.

          “Did you turn up the thermostat?” Sam asks, grabbing a jacket from his bag.

          “No, why?” Dean asks with confusion.

          “It’s _freezing_ in here. Aren’t you cold?” Sam complains. Dean looked at the temperature on the thermostat before it dawned on him.

Dean put his hand to Sam’s forehead, heat radiating on his fingers.

          “Sit still. I’m going to get the thermometer.” Dean orders as Sam sat on the bed. Slowly walking over towards the duffel bag, he grabs the thermometer, lining the two red dots until they became one on Sam’s forehead. The screen displayed 99°F, a low-grade fever.

          “You’ve got a low grade fever. Stay here while I go get some supplies.” Dean informs.

          “No, I…I can…I can erm…get the medicine..” Sam tries to say. His mind was foggy from the fever, and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

          “What _no_ Sam! You’re _sick_! Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Just get some rest in the meantime _will ya_?” Dean pleads, gently patting his shoulder.

Sam started coughing violently into his sleeve, wheezing in between coughs. Dean helps him sit down as he walked outside the motel, getting into the Impala as he drives to the pharmacy. Sam doubles over, wheezing with every cough. Sam slowly stood up after several minutes, slowly walking over to the bed as he covers himself as tightly as possible while he waited for Dean.

          His body was covered with sweat from his fever, but Sam was still freezing. Sam reached over towards the radio on the nightstand, tuning it to a soft rock station before he turns on his side, falling asleep to the soft music in the background.

          Dean walks into the motel about forty minutes later carrying grocery bags. After setting the bags on the table, he then took the time to take in his surroundings. Sam was wrapped in the covers like a burrito, soft music playing in the background. He walked over to the bathroom, grabbing a cup as he returned to the table, pouring some Nyquil into the cup as he prepared the medicine for Sam.

          Once he had the correct dosage, Dean started to shake Sam.

          “Sam wake up, you need to take this.” Dean calls. Sam slowly opens his eyes to see the Nyquil bottle on the nightstand, and the cup in Dean’s hand. Taking the cup from his hand, Sam drinks the liquid, gagging at the taste as he swallows it.

          “Ahhh God! That’s nasty!” Sam complains. Dean chuckled as he opened the bag.

          “Okay so the soup was limited, do you want turkey, chicken noodle, or rice?” Dean asks.

          “Chicken noodle.” Sam answers, laying back against the bed. Dean walked over to the small kitchen as he prepared the soup, heating it in a bowl in the microwave after opening the can. Once it was heated, he walked over to Sam as he slowly sat up, eating the soup that Dean made.

Sam’s face was flushed, no doubt a result of the fever.

          Once he drank the soup, he collapsed into the bed, covering himself as tightly as he could. Dean frowned and loosened the covers a bit, making sure that Sam didn’t suffocate under there.

          “I’m going to get some ice from th machine.” Dean informs as he grabs a bucket from under the sink. Once he had the bucket, he carried it to the lobby, inserting the cash from his wallet as he put the bucket under the ice machine and turned the knob.

He watched as the ice poured into the bucket, and once it was full, he carried it back to his room, arms feeling heavy from the weight of the ice.

After he carried it inside, he put it under the sink as he filled it with as much cold water as he could.

          Once the water was cold enough, he sat it down on the floor next to the couch, dipping the cloth in the water as he stopped it from dripping. Once it didn’t drip on the floor, Dean walks over to Sam, placing the rag on his forehead as he turns off the lights. Dean curled into the bed next to Sam as he covered them both in a cocoon. They used to do this when they were kids, especially when one of them got sick. Now he could do it again.

          Sam wakes up some time in the morning with a hacking cough. Dean slowly wakes up, startled by the loud coughing coming from Sam.

          “Crap.” Dean mutters, getting up as he went to fetch the thermometer. Once the red circles were lined up on Sam’s forehead, he read the temperature on the screen. 100°F.

          “Aw crap.” Dean gasped with concern, grabbing the Nyquil from the bag. After Sam drank the liquid, he looked at Dean, feeling drunk from the medicine.

          “Hey, you remember when I was possessed by Gadreel?” Sam yawns.

          “I try not to remember it Sam.” Dean answers.

          “Ah I had an angel inside me.” Sam laughs.

          “Okay.” Dean chuckled as Sam fell back into the bed. Dean went to fetch some more ice, taking the bucket as he went to the machine. He came back after several minutes, pouring in the water as he dipped another cloth in the ice. Once it was dipped in the water, he covered Sam’s forehead as he walked outside, sitting on the floor as he started praying to Cass.

          “Cass, I don’t know where you are, but Sammy’s sick. He needs you man.” Dean prayed, tears pouring from his eyes. When he didn’t get an answer, Dean sighed as he walked back into the room.

 

         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sammy's about to get real drunk from Nyquil. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Sammy. Dean where are you?


End file.
